The wind that blows, that howls down valleys. The wind that wanders, that weaves through leaves. The wind that rattles, that shivers through windows.
Wind of warriors and wind of old, of fallen Abbey and ruins cold, of dragon breath and legends told.
Sacred is the wind that bore the spirits, that whispered in the ears of a child that knew.
A wind that once was a gentle breeze, a wind that grew in strength and speed, to seek her soul, to call her back, to carry her home to the mountains of Wales.